


Need

by Honeybee_Bub



Series: Red Dead Reconstruction [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bessie and Hosea were each other's beards, Bisexual Male Character, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dutch van der Linde, Dom Hosea Matthews, Dom/sub, Dutch is Mentally Ill, Dutch is a whiny bitch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Gay Male Character, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Good Parent Hosea Matthews, Hosea is a softie, Hurt/Comfort, I think we've all established that, It's mentioned that Arthur has some emotional issues, Lemoyne, M/M, Oral Sex, Protective Hosea Matthews, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sadie Adler (Mentioned) - Freeform, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Sub Dutch Van Der Linde, The Swamps, Trauma, Trauma (mentioned), top hosea matthews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeybee_Bub/pseuds/Honeybee_Bub
Summary: On one of many nights, Miss Molly O'Shea reaches out to Hosea. And Dutch, is being needy and obnoxious, as always.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, Molly O'Shea/Dutch van der Linde
Series: Red Dead Reconstruction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139843
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly a one-shot I wrote that takes place somewhere in the middle of my fic: "Rich Is the Swamp in its Scum," but this can be read completely on its own!

The gold of the sun slipped into silver as it snuck behind the thick of the forest, sending a chill down Hosea’s spine as the dark settled above his back. His wrist grew tired from gripping his fountain pen, he stole off the man who attempted to get him hanged — Hosea frowned at the bland parchment. He closed his weathered journal and stretched, back recoiling at the sharp corner of crates behind his pad. 

Lenny grunted behind the crates as Hosea’s clamoring caused a splintery edge to scrape against the back of his neck. Hosea peeked over the top to make sure he was still out, and mouthed a quiet apology the young man would never hear. 

Just as Hosea curled into himself and reached to pull up his quilt, “Mister Matthews?” 

He pushed himself up on his palms, wrists protesting at the angle, and sighed. 

“Miss O’Shea?” 

Her thin face blue in the moonlight, the frizz of her hair fiery from the glow of a nearby lantern. 

“It’s Dutch.” 

_What’s wrong?_ Hosea’s stomach lurched and he quickly got to his feet. _What’s happened?_

“No, no-” Molly put her hands up, noticing his concern, “-not like that.” 

A breath the old man did not know he had been holding was released. 

“Ah, I see.” Hosea visibly relaxed. 

The young woman rolled her eyes at Hosea, and hugged herself a little tighter. 

“G’night,” Molly grumbled — the small, but furious snap of her Irish brute stung more than the night’s chill. 

“Miss O’Shea,” Hosea nodded to her. 

_Poor woman_ , Hosea thought to himself. 

He wondered where she would be sleeping that night. 

Maybe Mrs. Adler had a spot for her — the two women didn’t have much in common other than the intensity of their anger, but Hosea felt they had something to expand on. Though, he doubted Molly would let go of the sliver of pride she had left and admit the multitude of problems between her and Dutch behind the tent flaps. 

Hosea considered calling after her and offering her his space in case she truly didn’t have somewhere in camp she could go, but he held his tongue, thinking over how the mere proposition would likely infuriate her further. 

The grass crunched with building frost beneath his feet as Hosea made his way through the camp. As he passed Arthur — who was splayed across his cot, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth — he noticed his journal had slipped from beneath his excuse for a pillow in his restless sleep, and landed face up in the mud. 

Hosea crept up to his space and reached down for his journal. He closed it and snuck it in his chest beneath a wrinkly collared shirt. He was half tempted to steal a glance at the open page, but he internally chided himself; he would be as bad as the folks he was worried about if he were to look at it. Hosea just longed to know what was going through his boy’s head — he had gone quiet since they relocated to the mix of plantations and swamps of Lemoyne outside of Saint Denis. 

Arthur had been frustratingly distant, and Hosea ached to be near him again, but he had faith Arthur would come to him when he felt comfortable. Hosea would not push him. He just wished he knew. Hosea planted a peck on his forehead and dimmened his oil lamp, then made his way over to Dutch’s tent. 

Hosea pushed back the thick threaded flap and slipped inside. Dutch was hunched over, head in hands, sitting on his rickety chair. 

“Molly, I thought I told you-” Dutch huffed without looking up. 

Hosea frowned and put his hands on his hips. “Dutch, you need to be nicer to that poor girl.” 

Dutch jumped up at the sound of Hosea’s voice. “Oh, Hosea. I-” 

“You really do, dear,” Hosea reached out and rested his hands on Dutch’s shoulders. “She tries her best.” 

Dutch grunted in frustration, “I didn’t ask you here for this.” 

“For what?” 

“For-” Dutch crossed his arms. “-well, to be ridiculed.” 

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Hosea raised his eyebrows. 

“I don’t know, Hosea. _Is_ that what you’re doing?” 

Hosea pursed his lips, but said nothing. 

He moved his hands down from Dutch’s shoulders to his hips. 

Dutch often wanted things hard and fast, but Hosea preferred much the opposite. He wasn’t going to get exactly what he wanted — he was going to get _more_. Hosea was going to take it slow. He was going to make him want. 

Dutch opened his mouth, but Hosea shook his head. 

“I’ve heard plenty from you today, my dearest.” 

“Hosea,” Dutch said, near pouting. 

“Nope,” Hosea said sternly. “Sit.” 

Hosea gripped his sides and led him to the bed. 

Dutch near fell against his cot, the springs squeaking with his weight. 

“Okay,” Dutch whispered. 

Hosea cupped his cheek and ran his hand through Dutch’s dark curls. 

“You’ve been a pain lately, ya know that?” He said with a snicker. 

Dutch bit the inside of his mouth hard and looked down. 

“No, no, no,” Hosea cooed. “None of that.” 

Hosea lifted Dutch’s chin up to face him, “Look at me.” 

“We’re gonna be okay, Hosea. I have a plan, I promise.” Dutch insisted, “We’ll get-” 

“-out of here, I know. We always do,” Hosea finished. “Stop thinkin’ for a moment, will ya?” 

Dutch quit blustering and relaxed into Hosea, resting his head against the older man’s chest. 

“Just let me look after ya,” Hosea said softly. 

Dutch nodded, his eyes watering. He made a quick move for the buttons on Hosea’s vest, but Hosea caught him by the wrist. 

“We’re taking it slow,” Hosea said. 

Dutch looked taken aback, but quickly recovered. 

Hosea leaned in and pressed his forehead against Dutch’s and breathed in his scent; a strong musk with an undertone of gunpowder and disgustingly strong cologne. 

“You gonna behave for me, Dutch van der Linde?” Hosea whispered, nipping at his ear. 

Dutch nodded quickly, his brown eyes wide. 

Hosea rested his knee on the cot between Dutch’s legs, and began unbuttoning his vest agonizingly slow. Heat rose in Dutch’s cheeks as Hosea nuzzled into his neck. Hosea bit into him and tugged on his curls. Dutch undid Hosea’s top and worked on his bottoms, a small tremor present in his hands. 

Hosea gained a bit of sick pleasure in watching Dutch squirm with need as he drew him out like prey on a hunt. He was flushed and sweating by the time Hosea got his pants undone. 

Dutch anxiously ran his hands through Hosea’s silvery hair. 

“Hosea,” Dutch whined. 

“Be patient, dearest.” Hosea chided, “We have all night.” 

Hosea ran his finger down Dutch’s chest, trailing all the way down to his lower belly. The chill of the night was nonexistent as they basked in the heat of each other. 

Dutch reached up to Hosea and slowly pulled him down to him, “Kiss me.” 

Hosea smirked, “What do you say?” 

“You gonna make me beg, you bastard?” Dutch growled. 

Hosea looked at him knowingly and hovered just above his mouth, breathing heavily. 

He would hold back on the man as long as he pleased. 

“Please.” Dutch was breathless, “Please kiss me.” 

_Barely a minute._

Hosea bit Dutch’s lip and pushed his tongue into him, tasting the bitter aftermath of cigarettes mixing with the sweet edge of gum. Dutch moaned into his kiss and grappled his back, leaving marks in his shoulders. 

Hosea pulled his hair harder and Dutch’s nails dug deeper into him, both men gasping between kisses. Dutch bucked his hips up into Hosea’s thigh and gasped. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“It s’okay,” Hosea said softly. 

Hosea traced Dutch’s thighs up and down, planting light kisses all over his lower half. Dutch panted the closer Hosea drew, a burning heat growing deep within him. Hosea’s shit eating grin grew the more riled up Dutch became. 

He began to palm Dutch through his drawers, then edged them down around his ankles. 

Hosea looked up at Dutch, and received a nod. 

Hosea moaned while taking him in, sending vibrations through Dutch that made him bite his tongue. Dutch grabbed at Hosea’s short hair with one hand, clinging to the man’s shoulder with the other. 

Hosea sucked his length up and down until he was shaking and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Dutch’s grip on Hosea loosened; and he reached up to cover his face. 

He eased off the younger man and sat up. 

“Dutch,” he whispered. “Y’alright?” 

Dutch let loose a shaky sigh as a response. 

Hosea reached up to him and removed his hands. “You with me?” 

Dutch nodded and waved off the visible concern etched in the growing wrinkles of Hosea’s face. “Just got me a little worked up, is all.” 

“Sure?” 

“Yeah, can we-” Dutch paused thinking over his words carefully, “Can you-” 

Hosea raised his eyebrows, “Can I what?” 

Dutch propped himself up on his elbows and looked around Hosea, who followed his line of sight. 

“Nobody is going to come in, dearest.” Hosea put a reassuring hand on his arm. “What do you need?” 

Dutch’s lip quivered, “I need you.” 

_You don’t need to tell me twice_ , Hosea thought. 

Hosea took a moment to catch his breath. “Gimme a second.” 

“Do you have-” 

“Yes,” Hosea whispered. 

He leaned down and felt around in his boots for the petroleum jelly he picked up from the general market. It was much more preferable than the desperate use of gun oil on late nights and early mornings. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet, dearest.” Hosea looked at him. 

“I will,” Dutch said with a frown. 

“You’d better be,” Hosea chuckled softly, fiddling around for his necktie behind him. “Just in case, I’ll keep this nearby.” 

“You ruin me, old man,” Dutch laughed and wiped the sweat off his brow. 

“Good,” Hosea said, a deep blush filling out his cheeks. 

Hosea leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose that had been broken too many times, and Dutch pressed into him with such haste their teeth clashed. 

“Easy,” Hosea said, smiling against Dutch’s lips. 

Dutch continued kissing him and breathing the older man in as he slicked Hosea up with the jelly. Hosea inhaled sharply as Dutch gripped him from behind while slathering him down. The two men scrambled and clumsily bumped into each other. Dutch adjusted himself in a position comfortable enough for Hosea, laying back down on the rough cot, and Hosea shifted around and spread Dutch’s legs. 

“Ready?” Hosea asked, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his face. 

Dutch took a breath and nodded to Hosea. “Always.” 

Hosea slowly slipped himself inside Dutch, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. Hosea let loose a gasp of surprise, “You’re tense, dear.” 

“Shit,” Dutch groaned under him. “I know.” 

After moments of a few awkward thrusts as Hosea worked a cramp out of his hip, he hit a spot that made him and Dutch hiss like an engine of a rolling freight. 

“Christ almighty,” Hosea muttered breathlessly as their hips smacked against one another. 

“He sure as hell ain’t in here,” Dutch laughed, just before moaning loud and eager. 

“Shh, shh,” Hosea leaned down and covered his mouth. “Quiet, dear, _please_.” 

“Ohh, H-‘sea,” Dutch let loose a muffled whimper as he bit down on Hosea’s handkerchief. 

Dutch squeezed Hosea’s behind and arched his back, taking him in deeper. Hosea bit down on his lip so hard the taste of metal touched his tongue. His chest was tight and his stomach was doing backflips as he pushed harder and further inside Dutch. A hot zing spread up Dutch’s lower back and his vision dimmed as he lost control. 

One more thrust and Hosea shuddered violently, barely holding back a groan, as Dutch clenched around him. 

“Fuck, fuck-” Dutch cried silently as Hosea milked him through and thorough. 

Hosea felt dizzy with ecstasy as he pulled out and nestled next to Dutch. His heart rate slowed and the chill of the night slowly returned. Hosea scratched behind his ear, feeling sweat trickle down to his neck, and sighed. He needed a bath — _they_ needed a bath. Hosea rested his head on Dutch’s chest. 

They laid in silence together, Hosea listening to Dutch’s heart and Dutch holding Hosea tight. 

Hosea felt Dutch’s breath hitch in his chest, and he lifted his head up to look at him. Dutch felt Hosea’s calm, knowing eyes on him and his resolve broke. 

“I-” Dutch’s voice wavered, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I know,” Hosea kissed a tear sliding down his cheek. “I know.” 


End file.
